For those expecting the next installment of the Getting Out of Academic Dodge series, fear not, there is more tech info coming on Friday! For now, a more pressing job-search issue requires your attention.
Last week I was talking with QuidQuid about job searches, and from her I learned about “baby tiger” syndrome. The mark of this condition is a particular reaction people have to you in a professional context, thinking you’re cute, novel, and fun to play with, but — like a baby tiger in a boardroom — they don’t quite know what to make of you. And in the job hunting process, that’s not a good thing.
Awwwww. If I were still a classicist I'd probably reference Aeschylus or something.
I once had a campus interview for a very nice position at a respectable institution, including a candidate dinner at a swell French bistro. For the uninitiated, a “candidate dinner” is a particularly cruel rite of academic job hunting. You’re basically interviewing with the entire department all day, for several days, and in the evening they take you to nice restaurants and ply you with food and wine to see if you’ll do anything excitingly inappropriate. Of course you can’t really enjoy the great food in these situations, which is why it’s so mean. You may as well head to McDonald’s with a nice bottle of wine, a la Sideways.
So, in the dead of a Northern winter, all my potential co-workers were ordering pre-dinner gin and tonics like it’s high summer in the Raj. That’s just dumb, I thought, and ordered a much more seasonally-appropriate Old Fashioned, provoking yet another round of those “baby tiger” microexpressions I’d become so familiar with.
(Now, a reasonable person might argue that I should have just ordered the damned gin and tonic. And if I’d really wanted the job I might have — I’m not a total idiot on this front. But I’d already decided I didn’t want to be a professor anymore. Also, it remains the best Old Fashioned I’ve ever had. No regrets.)
By the time the wine arrived, the potential co-workers were clearly at their ease. They were the ones bringing up Sylvester Stallone and Buffy and Dr. Phil and talking about how “fun” the people in the department were. Yeah, right, but at least that meant I could relax too — there was no way I was going to get the job. In serious work environments being the “fun” candidate always means you’re the high-class call girl who’s going to lose out to the prim, marriageable prospect.
That comparison isn’t as gratuitous as it sounds. Ancient Greek hetairai (“courtesans”) and Japanese Geisha were highly educated, paid for their entertaining company and ability to converse, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s particularly problematic to be the “fun” female candidate. Somehow, your presence makes people more inclined to order a beer with lunch, and I guess they remember that instead of the sparkling intellectual conversation.
A hasty and irresponsible Google search reveals that indeed, Jungian psychology describes a feminine hetaira archetype who “tempt(s) herself or a man away from collective responsibilities.” (Ulanov 203) Well that’s just great. Or should I say, “That’s Gr-reeeat!” Ahem, where’s the man-whore archetype in this scenario? And if I’m going to be a hetaira, can I at least have a cool hooker name like “Manslayer” or “Toad”? (These are the names of actual hetairai, by the way.)
I guess you just can't keep a good archetype down, no matter what kind of suit you wear.
Sigh. This is why, as I start job hunting, I’m ambivalent about “fitting into corporate culture.” On the one hand, it makes sense that everyone needs to be on the same page to get stuff done. On the other hand, the idea that feeling “comfortable” with candidates is an acceptable criterion inevitably makes the hiring process an exercise in self-replication. Which has historically been the reason that, say, women and black people have had a tad bit of trouble. (Though it’s not always white men replicating themselves. I once saw an entire department of short, Bauhaus-brunette women. Again, I knew I was not going to get that job.)
When I read about “standing out” in an interview as a positive thing, I have to laugh. I’ve studied cognitive dissonance, and it’s actually a negative neural impulse, a concentrated distillation of “WTF?”. In smaller doses, it may be positive, and serve as the basis for laughter or provoke interest. After all, if everything went just as you expected, life would be very boring. But it’s one of those things where people like to think they enjoy surprise, variety, and diversity more than they really do. Especially at the corporate level.
I happen to know I’m an uber-competent, totally reliable, and very hardworking employee. And I’m realistic enough to know that in a job-hunting situation the onus falls on me to communicate this fact to an employer. But given that I’m always polite and respectful (Midwestern upbringing, can’t help it) I remain mystified as to what, exactly, I’m doing that’s so darned weird.
So, when I read about the importance of standing out, I always think of my favorite one-liner from Friends. Monica, sending Chandler off to ask a girl out, says: “Be yourself. But not too much.”
Exactly.
Any other “baby tigers” out there? Wanna form a club or something? And are there actual professions where being good company isn’t held against you, or what?
I love that post! Yes, yes, yes – the baby tiger syndrom. Or the mama tigress – all the same.
I actually think it’s possible for tigerettes to fit in the academic or corporate culture. I know of at least one in each – neither relented, neither really cares about fitting in. Both just do their stuff.
Thanks. I know of exactly one tigrette in academia, and to give the hiring department its due, I think they have effectively created a work environment based on good company. But otherwise the odds seem a bit grim.
I suppose the key would be to find a company full of tigrettes (baby, mama, otherwise) or to start one.
I’m 31. When will this end?
Pessimistically, not until a lot of older, serious people die. Optimistically, not until you find a non-serious job.
Thanks for the shoutout! I believe I learned about Baby Tiger Syndrome from Davina, my undergrad advisor and dear friend. I’ll have to send her over to see this!
As a long-time BTS sufferer, you know I love this post. I thought the feeling would go away when I left academia, but I was wrong! I think the key is finding a workplace that is either (1) populated with other baby tigers (2) full of people who wish they could be more like baby tigers. I’ve been in both situations and I vastly prefer the former.
I used to try to dial myself wayyyy back for job interviews. But then I realized–people either want to work with an extroverted, enthusiastic, lively person or they really don’t. And if they don’t, it’s best for all parties involved if we go ahead and figure that out up front. Because who wants to work in an environment like that??
It’s true, who does want to work in an environment like that? But I still never cease to be amazed by what counts as an “extrovert” in academic circles…and I think it’s kind of messed up that certain fields feel the need to cultivating dullness!
I think its always hard when you’re pidgeon-holed into anything. Especially at work.
True ’nuff, and good reason to leave!
I’ve had this experience too, and one of my good friends (aka Queen Baby Tiger) is always landing campus interviews for TT jobs but never making the final cut. She has a big personality and has mentioned to me that the professors were a bit too casual at the lunch and dinner engagements but at first she thought it was “normal.” But, later, when she discovered that the chosen one was someone she knew for a fact had the personality of a turnip, the whole post-interview hearty, fun social meal thing seemed more like a red flag.
I’ve warned her to be herself but dialed back a bit, but I think she has a hard time faking anything. The problem is that most academics are a very dull lot and easily intimidated by people with good CVs and interesting personalities. How does the corporate world compare? I have no idea.
Yes, the sad thing is BTS will definitely get you somewhere — interviewers freely admit they’ll do a first or second interview with people who pique their interest or seem fun, but why bother if you’re never going to hire them?
I’m sure you’ll be shocked to know I’m not too keen on “faking it” at this point — why on earth am I required to act dull to make someone feel better about themselves? But I suppose a truly awesome job (if such a thing exists anywhere in education) might be worth it. And I’ve asked “Sally” about corporate fields that welcome confidence and enthusiasm. We’ll see what she says!
Awesome. Thank you for this – I had forgotten about Katie’s/Davina’s BTS and it all comes rushing back to me now…trying to explain our world in those first two years of grad school.
I don’t know what it is about academia that makes us compare ourselves to animals, but I have two more to add.
One is “the dog who can do tricks”. This is how some academics treat female academics who are even marginally good looking AND intelligent. I think this is similar to the baby tiger (novelty), but dogs who can do tricks mostly just get pats on the head (“isn’t she precious? and she can do greek, too!”)
In my last year or so in grad seminars I was tired of being a tiger, or a dog who could do tricks, so I became a lioness. I was nice to the cubs, but I was so well prepared for each meeting that I tore my prey to pieces. It’s better to be scary than to be cute.
Side note: Why do academics always try to show off their “fun” side by talking about their love of certain television shows? TV watching is a passive action. You don’t get to be special or fun if you, like everyone else, likes TV.
Anyway, awesome. And yes, let’s start a club!
The Medusa syndrom, huh:) Oh what the academia does to us…
Seriously though – I had a similar experience when I went to grad school. I had a blast. But not everyone can pull off the lioness – a student of mine couldn’t, no matter how hard I coached her for her philosophy seminars. An exceedingly smart girl in all other respects, she was.
Agree it’s better to be a lioness than a baby tiger, but being perceived as “angry” bites women in the ass too. In professional contexts, it provokes a negative backlash (speaking of negative neural impulses) as has been shown in many studies. I was once told I seemed like a “ticking time bomb” by one of the esteemed faculty at the program in question.
On the other hand, that same esteemed faculty told me I needed to learn to use the “stiletto and not the axe”; that wasn’t bad advice. And I’ve found humor works quite well, if you can get away from the self-deprecating kind women are socialized to use…the laugh of the Medusa, as it were.
Side note: Why do academics always try to show off their “fun” side by talking about their love of certain television shows? TV watching is a passive action. You don’t get to be special or fun if you, like everyone else, likes TV.
“Buffy” fans don’t speak about Buffy to make themselves look fun. We are spreading the gospel.
Ha! Animals and academia. I need to log all the references I’ve found. Baby tigers are new to me. I’ve been a ‘chicken’ – as in, ‘chicken stealing’ when one professor stole me from another professor. I’ve also been a ‘horse’ – as in, enough horses to pull the teaching load. ‘Dragons’ are scary women in leather jackets-it must be like lionesses.
The TV comment above also bit me in a TT interview recently. A professor was going on and on about the royal wedding at the candidate dinner-she watched shows about it, had the book, etc etc. All I could do was blink. I kept thinking to myself-should I feign interest? Whatever, I’ll just keep eating my spinach. Maybe that’s why I didn’t have ‘enough experience’? lol!
I’ve been entertaining the notion of heading over to Georgetown with a cardboard sign that says “I DON’T FIT IN PLEASE HELP.”
LOL I think you should just to confuse them. Let us know how that works out. Or maybe just wait till the Million Moderate March — bet there will be a lot of people who don’t fit in there!
It’s long been my opinion – another BT here – that most academic departments are really looking for someone who will fit in. No rugged individualists. No quirky research topics (obscure research is OK, though). No one who is significantly smarter than the rest of the department. In a junior candidate, not too much success in terms of publication.
Yes, I think that’s true, and unfortunately I don’t think “fitting in” is limited to academia.
I find it morbidly hilarious that everybody’s always going on about finding “excellence,” but they’re scared of anyone who actually stands out. Like Herodotus’ metaphor, slicing off the heads of the tallest poppies (or sheaves of wheat or whatever it was) so they won’t threaten your little fiefdom.
I’ve read this post a bunch of times, and yet I still can’t figure out…
I like gin and tonic and all, even in the winter (and I’m from the north), but what the hell is wrong with or unprofessional about an Old Fashioned? I mean, I’d understand weird looks if you’d ordered a double-shot of rum and pounded it back while all the others were still squeezing their limes, but come on. An Old Fashioned isn’t even a “weird” or “girly” drink.
It’s not about the Old Fashioned per se, it’s about fitting in. It’s completely inarguable that people want to hire copies of themselves, so the best way to ace an interview is to look, act, and even move the same way the interviewers do (no, really, mirroring body language is an effective way to charm people). And I don’t think the drink was what made or broke the deal, it was just a moment when I really felt the pressure to conform.